Lost Tales of MiddleEarth
by A Ghost Who Walks
Summary: A collection of hopefully funny stories of Middle-Earth.


**DISCLAIMER: *Sighs* I own LOTR only in my dreams.**

**Hi guys! This is my first ever LOTR fanfic. Enjoy (she said hopefully)!**

Frodo ran forward in dramatic slow motion. His eyes were burning pools of determination, locked upon his target: Mount Doom.

Sam looked at him proudly. Dear Mr. Frodo, so brave and noble and determined. Why, Samwise hadn't seen him this focused since the time they set out the harvest ale at the Golden Perch's annual beer fest. For a moment, Sam wondered why there were so many people at this mountain. For the Gaffer's sake, it was a _volcano_! But then Sam remembered that he was only a simple hobbit, so didn't know anything about such lofty matters.

Gollum snapped at his heels. "We don't like it here, no precious. Nasty dwarveses and-and _elveses, _with their bright eyeses. No, precious. We don't likes it here at all."

Sam rolled his eyes at the wretched creature's horrible mangling of plurals. "Shut up, Sneaker," he said amiably.

Mr. Frodo ran onward, unheeding of the masses clustered round the base of the mountain. A photographer cursed him as he ran between the camera and a pair of happy elvish honeymooners. _Strange place to have a honeymoon, _thought Frodo absently, _Oh, well. Who can understand the ways of the elves?_ He knocked a middle-aged human man down, who bore a shirt proclaiming Lossarnach to be the champs of the great head-bash-in ball tournament. "Hey, watch out, weirdo!" he yelled, shaking his fist at the hobbit. Frodo merely waved pleasantly. "And good day to you too, my good man."

People began to stare at the hobbit.

"Mama, why's that man running like that?" asked a young child.

Her mother hushed her. "Shhh, Vidumavi. It's not nice to stare at retarded people."

Frodo hesitated for a moment, then paused in his mission to knock the woman into a conveniently located lembas stand. The vendor looked at his ruined goods in disbelief, then sat among the wreckage and began to sob.

Sam's face showed shock for a moment, then he shrugged. If Mr. Frodo was doing it, then it must be okay.

"Oh look, Fundin dearest! A wee little…shrunken guy!" a dwarf woman shrieked, pulling out a camera and snapping a picture.

"Ack! No, precious! The light, it burns us, precious!" wailed Gollum, covering his eyes with his hands and wondering why strange magenta circles kept dancing around him.

Sam shook his head. Gollum was such an idiot at times, so unlike his dearest Mr. Frodo.

That aforementioned Mr. Frodo was now bounding near the rim of the volcano, the Ring held high. It gleamed perilously, seductively. Frodo shook his head fiercely. He would not let this foul creation of Sauron ensnare him in its dark entanglements now!

An elf woman clad in a khaki suit strode forwards, a large list in hand. Sam noticed that she appeared to be heading Mr. Frodo's way, so he stopped her. "Oh, you mustn't stop Mr. Frodo, ma'am. He's a very special hobbit. He's going to save the world!"

The elf looked at him strangely. "Save the world?"

"Yes ma'am. He's casting the evil Ring of Sauron into Mount Doom, therefore saving the world!"

The elf looked as if she was about to say something, but was interrupted by a triumphant shout.

"I HAVE DONE IT!" Frodo bellowed, "I have saved the world!" He began to kick up his furry hobbit feet in a victorious jig.

Then he was tapped on the shoulder.

"What?" he asked, rather annoyed, "Can't you see that I'm celebrating my victory over the foul hosts of Mordor?"

The elf muttered something under her breath about not being paid enough. "I'm sorry, sir, but you have to pay a fine."

"What?"

"200 white gems for not restraining your…pet, I guess," she said, gesturing to Gollum, who was harassing tourists for every remotely shiny thing they had on them, "300 white gems for bringing unauthorized food."

Frodo blushed, trying to wipe the crumbs from his face.

"450 white gems for littering. We have regulations against tossing jewelry into our volcano, you know."

Frodo sputtered indignantly.

The elf continued serenely, "And 50 white gems for not purchasing tickets to gain entrance into the park."

"Tickets? Gandalf didn't say anything about any $%& tickets!"

"That would amount to 1,000 white gems, sir. We accept credit cards."

"But-but don't I get a discount for saving the world?"

The elf rolled her eyes. "Saving the world?"

"Well, yes. I threw the Ring into Mount Doom and-_" _ Here he was cut off by the elf roaring in laughter. This continued for several minutes, until the elf wiped away a few tears and gasped, "Sir, this isn't Mount Doom."

Frodo fell to his knees and let out a long cry of anguish.

But the elf wasn't done yet. "Sir, this is Mt. Lwar'gríobloniayû. Translated from Quenya, that means 'mountain where the bluebird of happiness nests'."

**Yeah, I guess that was pretty lame. But it was calling me. I'm hoping to make this part of a series of hopefully funny one-shots. Please PM me if you have any ideas!**


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